A/N: In what has become a tradition, a holiday gift for my readers. Thank you for your ongoing support and encouragement.

A glimpse of Laura, from childhood until those first days after the man who would become Remington Steele stepped into her life.

These stories go hand-in-hand, most tellingly, with Holting Back in the Canon series, and go far to explain Laura's struggles with her father's reappearance.

Each 'chapter' or story in this series is 1500 words or less: Brief and hopefully enjoyable... as well as revealing.

From 12/8 through 1/1, I will be adding a Vignette story every few days. After that, as they strike me.

I hope you enjoy!

And far more importantly - I hope this holiday season finds you each happy and well, and will provide you many happy memories for the years ahead.

RSteele82

February 1960 - Age 4

The small girl with curly auburn hair and large, expressive brown eyes walked into the living room, with puddles of tears brimming as she sniffled unhappily. Dragging her feet, she approached a scratchy, tan-plaid, woven arm chair, then stilled to stare up at the handsome, auburn-haired man in his early thirties. Jack had heard the commotion coming from upstairs and wasn't surprised by the appearance of his youngest daughter, in fact, had anticipated it.

"Hey, pumkin', why the long face?" Four-year-old Laura Holt rested her chin on the arm rest and while she stared up at him, miserably, the first drop of wetness trickled past her lashes.

"Mother says I'm selfish cuz I don't wanna go to high tea," she sniffled. With an empathetic smile, Jack turned slightly in his chair to pluck his petite daughter up and settle her in his lap.

"You don't want to get all dressed up in your Sunday best like Mommy and Frannie?" Her lip quivered as another tear fell. Hanging her head, she shook it.

"No," she whispered, fearful he, too, would dub her 'selfish.' He laughed silently, unseen. His youngest daughter knew her own mind.

"I'll tell you a secret," he offered. She swiped at a tear with a fisted hand and looked up at him. Bending his head down, he whispered conspiratorially into her ear "I wouldn't want to either." She knuckled away another tear and looked up at him, hopefully.

"Laura Elizabeth Holt, you are ruining your sister's special treat with this attitude," Abigail accused as she entered the room. Laura hung her head at the sharp admonishment, tears slipping past her lashes again. "Now, dry your tears up and get back to your room so we can find you an appropriate dress for tomorrow."

"Uh, Abby," Jack stepped in, "I know Frannie enjoys dressing up, but don't you think something simple would be more appropriate for the circus?" Laura's head jerked up as she stared at her father.

"The circus?!" She'd always wanted to go to the circus. She's seen pictures. Images of red and white tents, elephants and tigers, and people flying through the air danced in her head.

"What in Heaven's name are you talking about? The circus?" Abigail said the two words with disdain. "The girls and I are going to high tea. It's all Frances has spoken of for a week!" Laura's face fell, crestfallen. Jack patted her reassuringly on the knee.

"And I told you a month ago the circus was in town and I thought it would be a nice family outing," he countered. Abigail looked back over her shoulder towards the stairwell that led up to the bedrooms.

"Frances will be so disappointed," Abigail replied, mournfully. She was not a woman who would question her husband's decision. If he said they were going to the circus, the circus it would be.

"Well, I'd hate for her to be upset," he feigned consideration. In truth, while the circus was in town, after the way Abigail had acted when he'd mentioned taking the family, he hadn't bought the tickets. "I tell you what, you and Frances go on and do that tea thing and I'll take Laura with me to the circus, that way everyone is happy." An obedient wife Abigail might be, but a pushover she was not. Critical eyes moved from father to daughter, then back to the father again. She was fairly certain she'd just been bamboozled and this was just another case of Jack letting Laura get her way. But, to call him on that was to risk the entire family going to the circus…

"Very well. Laura, you're excused from tea," she informed her youngest, begrudgingly. "It's probably all for the better, as you'd just ruin it for Frances given that attitude." Laura reared back as though she'd been struck, and scowling at Abigail, Jack gathered his small daughter close.

"That's enough, Abigail," he retorted, coolly. "Frances gets her tea, which you'll enjoy." Abigail's chin ticked up a notch.

"We will." With those words she spun on her heel and strode from the room. Jack gave Laura a hug, before picking her up and turning her on his lap. He tweaked her nose, playfully.

"Don't let your mother upset you. She means well," he smiled. "Now, how would you like to watch my favorite television show with me?

"Just you and me?" she asked, the first smile of the evening appearing on her face.

"Just you and me," he confirmed. "Up you go." Setting her on her feet, he crossed the room to the television set, turned it on, fiddled with the antenna and when the picture was just right, returned to his chair and scooped her back up in his lap."This is called Atomic Man."

"Tom Mix Man," she repeated. He laughed warmly.

"That's right, Tom Mix Man. Now, be quiet and watch the show."

Happily, Laura snuggled into the crook of her father's arm. Utterly content - ensconced in her father's warm embrace and surrounded by the spicy scent of his aftershave - and enraptured by the super hero in the funny outfit who was determined to save the day, when the world was once again safe and the credits began to roll, she turned to her father.

"Again! Again!" she insisted, bouncing on his lap and clapping her hands in her excitement.

"I'm afraid we'll have to wait until next week, pumkin'. It's all over for tonight." She promptly burst in tears.

"I wanna watch Tom Mix Man," she pleaded. Standing with his small, crying daughter in his arms, Jack turned off the television set and turned towards the stairs that would take them upstairs.

"It's time past your bedtime, Laura," he told her, as he began the climb up the stairs. "Would you feel better if I promised you and I will watch Tom Mix Man together every week? Just you and me?" She lifted her tear streaked face to peer at him.

"Just you and me?"

"Just you and me," he vowed, as he sat her on her feet in her bedroom. "Time for your prayers." Still sniffling, Laura dutifully got down on her knees, rested her elbows on the bed, steepled her hands together and began.

"God in heaven, hear my prayer. Keep me in thy loving care. Be my guide in all I do. Bless all those who love me too." She paused for a moment, then quickly added, "And Tom Mix Man, too. Amen." Prayers finished, she shed her bathrobe and scrambled into bed.

"Is Mother going to tuck me in?" Jack looked towards the doorway of the room. He knew there was no way his wife, in a snit as she was, would be in that evening.

"I'm not good enough?" he teased. "I'm a master tucker-in-er." As she giggled he tucked the blankets around her firmly then bent down to kiss her on her forehead. "Pleasant dreams, pumkin'." Straightening, he walked to the doorway and turned out the light.

"Daddy?" her small voice came from the now dim room.

"Yes, Laura?"

"I wanna be like Tom Mix Man when I'm growed up." Her father nodded his head, thoughtfully.

"You can be anything you want to be. Don't let anyone tell you different."

With those parting words, he closed the door until only a sliver of light filtered into the room from the small crack in the door.

Rolling to her side and closing her eyes, visions of Atomic Man and the circus lulled her to sleep.